


a voice within me (keeps repeating you, you, you)

by sunshinelatte



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, steve/bucky fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinelatte/pseuds/sunshinelatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fill for this prompt at steve/bucky fest.</p>
<p>http://stevebucky-fest.dreamwidth.org/307.html?thread=397107#cmt397107</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bucky is a musician and Steve is a graphics artist</p>
            </blockquote>





	a voice within me (keeps repeating you, you, you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GraveVyxen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveVyxen/gifts).



> title from Cole Porter's Night and Day.
> 
> I don't own the boys.
> 
> Un-betaed. all mistakes are my own 
> 
> this was written to the De-lovely soundtrack (that explains a lot)

Cigarette smoke swirls in a fog, enveloping Steve into its embrace as he steps through the main door into the pub. It’s dimly lit, like most pubs are, but he can make out the bar well enough, and that’s the direction he heads in.

 

He flags down the bartender, who flashes him a cheery grin. “What’s your poison tonight?”

“Whiskey on the rocks. Thanks pal.”

“Ah, a good old-fashioned drink. None of that fancy cocktail stuff for you?”

Steve returns the grin, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m old-fashioned.”

“Ah, then you’ll love tonight’s singer. He loves old-fashioned.” The bartender gestures to the small stage in the corner. “He’ll come on in a few.”

Steve shrugs, and thinks to himself, why not? This pub has a homey feel, not too crowded or rowdy, the bartender is friendly enough, and prices don’t seem too steep for a starving artist like him. If the music is good, all the better.

 

“Here you go, Barnes’ be on soon, better get to the front if you don’t wanna miss the show.” He looks up to see the bartender’s cheeky wink. 

“Oh, it’s okay. Was just gonna hide here and nurse my drink.” Steve isn’t quite sure what to do with the bartender’s overwhelming enthusiasm for the singer. Is he really that good?

The bartender shrugs and holds out his hand, “Your choice, buddy. Name’s Sam, by the way.”

“Steve.” Sam has a nice firm handshake, the sort he likes. 

 

The spotlight over the stage switches on, and its glare illuminates a figure in black hunched over the piano. Nimble fingers twinkle across the piano as he launches into a Cole Porter classic. Steve is almost blown away as he recognises the opening bars of his mother’s favourite song.

 

_“Night and day, you are the one  
Only you beneath the moon and under the sun”_

 

He clutches his whiskey glass tightly as he’s brought back in time, seeing his parents dance together at home when they thought he was asleep, peeking from behind his bedroom door. He’s reminded of the deep love they shared, and how he’d thought he one day experience it for himself.

 

Of course, all these plans went down along with the horrific car crash that had claimed both his parents and all his dreams. He’s been drifting along since, never sure of his standing in this world, never finding an anchor to keep him firmly rooted.

 

Choking back a bitter sob as he downs the rest of his whiskey in a gulp as there’s scattered applause in the pub as the singer finishes his song. Steve orders another whiskey and cradles it as the singer turns to face the audience, giving a wave and a small bow. 

 

His blue eyes briefly meet Steve’s own, and suddenly, Steve feels a jolt run down his spine that he’s not entirely sure is due to the whiskey. He takes another gulp to calm down and tells himself that it’s just due to the alcohol and the memories, and that’s the same reason his heart feels like it’s thudding out of his chest. 

 

He lets himself get lost in the memories of good times, and the singer’s voice isn’t half bad. Not very strong, but at least it’s pleasant and he’s got pitch. Before he knows it, the singer’s finished and the spotlight goes off.

 

“Told you you’d like him, yeah?” He turns around on his stool. Sam is grinning at him. “Barnes is a friend of mine but objectively speaking, I think he’s not bad.”

“You mean you only think I’m not bad? Some friend you are, pal.” There’s footsteps coming up from behind him, and soon Barnes is sliding onto the barstool next to his. “For that, you’re giving me a drink on the house.”

Sam laughs as he turns to make Barnes’ drink. “Hey dude, you ain’t no Frank Sinatra. Don’t go praisin’ yourself. Anyway this here is Steve. First time here and he seems to like your crap excuse for a show.”

Barnes looks at Steve appraisingly. “Well, he’s got good taste then.” He sticks out his hand at Steve, “Name’s James but everyone calls me Bucky. Hope you enjoyed the music.”

 

Steve appreciates the firm handshake, but not the electric current running up his right hand from where their palms contact. He meets Bucky’s blue eyes and fuck, the current seems to spreading to his whole body. He draws his hand away as soon is appropriate, wiping the sweat on his jeans. There’s something about Bucky he can’t quite explain. Or understand. And he’s not sure if he wants to.

 

“Whiskey on the rocks!” both of them turn to see Sam plonk two glasses on the bar. “Guess you old-fashioned guys drink the same things.”

Steve looks at his drink, looks at Bucky, and they both burst out laughing. Sam grins again and heads off to serve customers at the other end of the bar. 

 

“So, old-fashioned, eh?” Bucky raises his glass in a toast to Steve. 

“Sometimes, old-fashioned is the best.” Steve clinks his glass against Bucky’s. 

 

Bucky turns out to be easy to talk to and extremely easy on the eyes. They talk late into the night, Sam joining in when it’s not too busy. Before he knows it, it’s 1 am and he really ought to be heading home, he’s got to wake up early to get the studios to finish the graphics for the overdue stills so the animators can get started on bringing his art to life.  
He fishes his wallet out of his back pocket and finishes his drink, waving goodbye to Sam and Bucky as he walks out of the door. He wishes he didn’t have to leave Bucky behind though. 

He’s one streetlight away from the doors of the pub when he hears a shout. “Steve, waitup!” It’s Bucky, running out of the pub, towards him. 

“I don’t usually do this, but here’s my number, give me a call sometime?” There’s a faint blush sweeping across Bucky’s cheekbones as he shoves a napkin into Steve’s jacket pocket. 

Steve is stunned. He’s never had any one as gorgeous as Bucky come onto him, except in his wildest dreams, and even so, hardly in this kind of scenario. He gapes at Bucky unglamorously for a bit before remembering to shut his mouth and respond. He has to swallow twice, his throat is so dry.

“Sure. Maybe I’ll see you around at the pub?”

Bucky’s grin reaches his eyes. “Every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday night.” 

Steve pats his jacket pocket. “You’ll see me there.”

Bucky beams as he waves and heads back to the pub. Steve heads home, saves the number into his phone and stares at the napkin for a long time. 

 

*

It becomes routine for Steve, spending his evenings at the pub, engaging in friendly banter with Sam and letting Bucky tear his heart to pieces as he sings. He’s never quite gotten the courage to act on the electric current that buzzes every time Bucky’s hand accidentally grazes his, or every time their eyes meet over the crowd. 

 

He thinks, maybe someday he’ll be ready, ready to grow roots and allow himself to have what his parents had. But not tonight. Not today.

 

After a particularly heartwrenching set, he finds Bucky outside in the alley behind the pub, smoking. The reddish- glow of the cigarette end lights his face up and gives him an ethereal glow. His eyes are wet, and he reaches out a hand to scrub at his face.

“You okay?” Steve’s voice cuts through the dark, and Bucky startles. 

“Christ, you scared me. Yeah, just gets to you sometimes, y’know? All the heartbreak I sing about.” Bucky puffs on his cigarette, not meeting his eyes.

Steve is drawn in, like a moth to flame. He moves to Bucky, places a hand under his chin and tilts his head up so he can look Steve in the eye. 

“We’ve all been through heartbreak, I’d say.” He breathes his words on Bucky’s lips. “But sometimes it’s worth it.”

Bucky flicks his cigarette onto the floor, reaches a hand behind Steve’s head and crushes their lips together, hard and furiously. 

Steve feels the electric current running through his blood, right down to his toes, anchoring him to the ground. 

 

*

Wednesday night finds him heading back to the pub. Sam spies him coming in and has a whiskey on the rocks waiting for him by the time he sits down at the bar. 

“Go on then, Barnes’ll be out soon. Good to see you today, man.” He gives Steve a fist-bump and wipes the counter. 

Steve picks up his drink and makes his way to the front of the room. Soon enough, the spotlight switches on and Bucky sits at the piano. He notices Steve and winks, before starting on another classic Cole Porter song. 

_“I saw you there one wonderful day_  
You took my heart and threw it away  
That's why I ask the Lord in Heaven above  
What is this thing called love?” 

 

Maybe it’s the music, maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the memories, maybe it’s the tiredness from spending all day squinting at a computer screen, but he hears the heartbreak in Bucky’s voice, the emotion that makes a singer a real singer, not just a karaoke crooner; and it breaks his heart more than just a little. Maybe he’s ready to face new heartbreak again after all these years.

 

Bucky finishes the set and leaves the stage, Steve meets him at the bar. Sam serves up their whiskeys automatically and slaps a high-five to Bucky. “Had ‘em eating out of your hand tonight Barnes!” 

 

“As always, Sam. They know good music when they hear it.” Bucky throws back his drink in a gulp and laughs. He turns to Steve with a feral glint in his eye. “Wanna get outta here?”

 

Steve can only nod in agreement as he feels the electric current running just beneath his skin, so close to the surface, ready to burst out. 

 

They walk the six blocks to Steve’s apartment quickly, not touching each other. Once they’re in the apartment, however, Bucky’s slamming Steve against the wall, crushing their lips together and hands fisting in his hair. 

 

Steve feels the electric current bursting into flames as Bucky fucks him, deep and slow. Maybe he’s home, maybe he’s found his anchor. Either way, it’s good, and he’s not about to complain when this is the best thing to have happened to him since his parents were alive.

*

_“You know darling why,  
So in love with you am I.” _

Bucky stares straight at Steve as he sings, and Steve knows in his bones that he isn’t drifting anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you like this, OP! apologies if you wanted newer music like One Republic, that's not really my sort of thing.
> 
> comments are adored


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